Did he really think I was that useless?
By the time I stopped jumping, I was deep in the downtown area. I found the nearest bench and sat down, wrapping my arms around my knees. It was cold, and I hadn’t brought my coat, but my rage kept me warm enough. I couldn’t believe this. I’d just about come to terms with the fact I couldn’t talk to Cheyenne, but to be ripped away from her like this was too much. She needed someone who’d been through this! I just knew she’d not tolerate being locked away. And the more we told her to stay indoors, the more she’d try to break free. She’d be putting herself in the very danger we were trying to defend her from.
I should know; I’d done the same thing.
My eyes closed, and I stayed in the same position for a long while. This was stupid. Getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to have a proper talk with Callon, explain to him my feelings. Surely he’d understand we needed to keep Cheyenne on our side, and she wouldn’t trust us if we ordered her around all the time.
But my stubbornness held me back. Why should I go crawling back? I’d flown all the way from Ireland to help, and Callon was shoving me aside. He had to learn to appreciate what I did for him.
In the end I decided to wait the night out. I’d go back in the morning, when my temper had cooled. I wasn’t in the right mind to discuss things, anyway.
I lay on the bench, though I didn’t sleep. I watched the stars and moon, and listened to the creak and groan of the alleyways as the wind drifted through them. Sandpoint really was a tiny place, though it was still more developed than the area around the O’Shea estate in Ireland. I’d grown attached to the town since flying over, and I was going to miss it when we had to leave.
And it seemed that day would come sooner than I wanted.
The hours passed slowly. I did doze off for a couple of hours, and by the time I awoke, dawn was breaking. I sat up, stretching. It was a Saturday, and I remembered Colt saying Cheyenne had an appointment in the morning. I had no idea where she’d be heading. Though of course that wasn’t my job anymore, I noted bitterly.
As the streets began to fill with the early risers, I stood up and started a slow walk home. There were too many people about for me to jump, and besides, I wanted to delay for as long as possible.
The roads were slick with rain, and huge puddles spread from the drains and dips in the road. They reflected the pink sky perfectly, until the tyres of the trucks and jeeps sliced through them. The air was wonderfully fresh, too, if still somewhat chilly for late spring. I ran my hands across my arms, missing my coat. Maybe I was the runt of the O’Shea family. Colt and Callon hardly ever felt the hot or cold, they both ate less than I did, and slept less than I did. By Timeless standards, I was practically human…
A rumble above caught my ear, and I looked up. The sky had darkened again; another shower was imminent. I walked faster, hoping to find cover under the shops. Soon the quiet patter of drops hit my shoulders, and the heavens opened. I grimaced, half-tempted to snatch a coat from one of the shops. I could take one and jump before anyone ever saw me.
I shook my head. What the heck, Daniel? What a stupid thought! It was my fault for storming out last night. I could bear the wet for a little longer.
My walk led me to another set of crossroads. As I came to the edge, more people appeared. The weekend rush was about to begin. Most carried umbrellas or sported raincoats, but there was one woman who was hurrying along, holding a soggy paper bag over her head. Her blonde curls stood out in the sea of gray, and my eyes widened.
That was Cheyenne!
I immediately changed direction, following her from across the road. She was rushing through the puddles, soaking the bottom of her jeans. I frowned. Colt said she usually drove the Jeep to any appointments, parking directly in front of any shops.
My heart tightened. She was out here, walking all alone…she was a sitting duck!
I needed to make sure she was safe.
Cheyenne stopped at a set of traffic lights, waiting for the crossing signal to change. She was impatient, tapping her feet against the sidewalk. Suddenly a gap appeared in the traffic, and without hesitation she ran across. Then a truck came round the corner, a little too fast. Cheyenne was almost on my side, when she slipped in a puddle. The truck’s tires screeched, and it was heading right for her.
No!
I was there before I had a chance to think. I grabbed her arms and jumped back to the sidewalk, just as the truck zoomed past. Cheyenne yelped, almost falling over and taking me with her.
“Hey!” She was going to raise her head to look at me. Instead I pressed her into my chest. I couldn’t let her see my face.
“It’s okay, you just slipped,” I said. “You’re not hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” Cheyenne made to push me away. At the same moment I took her paper bag, and managed to half-cover my face. “Um, thank you.”
“No trouble,” I said. “Just next time, you might want to wait for the crossing light, yeah?”
Cheyenne blushed. I was glad everything had happened so fast; she wouldn’t have noticed jumping the extra few feet in the rain. Otherwise this could have been very awkward.
“Well, take care.” I handed back the paper bag and headed off, hiding my face.
“Wait!” Cheyenne called. “Can you at least tell me your name?”
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry,” I said, slipping into the nearest alley. I didn’t like leaving her like that, but I didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Besides, I needed to find a way to get behind her and make sure she got to her appointment in one piece.
I waited for about five minutes, then backtracked to peer round the corner of the wall. Cheyenne was off again, this time heading towards the park. She was probably planning on taking a shortcut. Casually I walked in the same direction. As I crossed the far road, though, something in the puddles caught my eye. Tiny, glistening lights that danced off the surface. But the sun was behind the clouds. So where…
Oh no, Ghosters!
Frantically I looked to the rooftops of the buildings. I knew they preferred high vantage points, as it helped them spread their soul-shards further. I couldn’t see anything, so I changed track and headed back into the alley. Once alone, I jumped up the fire escape to the roof of the adjacent building.
From this height, I could see pretty much the whole downtown area. Cheyenne was in the middle of the park, thankfully far away from the pond, which was also covered in lights. But with all the puddles around, there were too many things to reflect the soul-shards. I had to find the Ghoster and take them out, quickly.
Knowing nobody could see me, I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, hoping to find something. It was all looking fruitless, until I came to the top of the high street. In the backstreet below, I spotted someone crouched behind a dumpster, their hands held at right angles. Light danced between them, and they were muttering quietly.
Aha!
Silently I jumped to the fire escape above. The person was actually a woman with lank dark hair. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end; she wasn’t alone. Though I couldn’t see them, I could sense the Tresez that must be hiding in the dumpsters. Ah, so that was her plan; to lure Cheyenne here and let the dogs tear her to pieces.
Like I was going to let that happen!
I paused, thinking out a plan. I couldn’t face the Ghoster and her Tresez entourage all at once. I’d have to jump her away, probably onto the roof, and deal with her first. After she was gone, the Tresez wouldn’t be able to come out until nightfall. And I’d have made sure Cheyenne was safely tucked in bed before then.
The woman below was totally oblivious to my presence, concentrating on maintaining her soul-shards. I’d only get one chance to do this right. Bracing myself, I jumped to her level and grabbed her arm. Her eyes snapped open, but we were already back on the fire escape. She cried out as we reached the roof, and she shoved me back. I stood my ground, crouching slightly.
“So, Marcus was rig
ht,” she hissed, her eyes glinting. “You are protecting something precious here.” She opened her hands, sliding out a knife from her sleeve. “Care to tell me now, boy, or shall I have you scream it for me as I torture you to death?”
“How about you crawl back to your hole in Canada?” I snarled. “Or do I have to make you?”
“My, aren’t we a brash one,” the woman chuckled. “Let’s see if you’re as tough as you claim!”
She lunged. I jumped behind her, and slammed my elbow into her back. She groaned, but didn’t crumple. Instead she flung out her arm, hitting me in the stomach. I gasped, the wind knocked from me, and she drove her fingers into my exposed arm. Her nails drew blood, and I howled.
“Oh, such a baby!” she cooed. “You really are pathetic if you were chosen to be her defender!”
Her words ignited my rage, and I grabbed her arms. I ran with all my strength towards the fire escape, and then jumped back into the alley below. Her back smacked into the brick wall, and she coughed. Warmth splattered onto my T-shirt, but I didn’t stop there. I jumped again, this time going up. She cried out, scraping her side against the fire escape rails again and again, finally clipping her head against the guttering.
I let go on the rooftop again, breathing hard. The rain pelted down, washing the blood from my arms. The woman staggered to her feet, her face cut and bloody.
“You can’t…resist Marcus forever,” she choked out. “He will…win! Always!”
“Never!” I shouted, racing forward again. I kicked out, my knee connecting with her chest, and she went flying backwards to the edge of the roof. A sudden gust of wind flittered past, and she lost her balance. Her arms grappled for the rail, but she couldn’t hold on. My eyes widened as she fell, and I ran after her.
I was too late. Her body bounced off the fire escape rungs like a rag doll. Finally she hit the concrete floor below, hard, and became very still. Her eyes were blank and staring.
I slumped onto all fours, breathing hard. I’d beaten her, but inside I felt terrible. My arms shook as the rain continued to fall, and it wouldn’t stop. I’d fought Marcus’s army before, but I always hated killing. Yes, this Ghoster had been sent to hurt Cheyenne, but it didn’t make it any more pleasant. We were both Timeless. It wasn’t right we had to fight like this.
It was a long time before my body calmed. Now I knew I had to get back to Callon as soon as possible. Even if the Ghoster couldn’t report back that I was in Idaho and not Ireland, the Tresez would have smelled me. And if Marcus ever found out that one of the O’Shea brothers was a long way from home, he’d send his whole army down here in the blink of an eye.
Wiping my bloody arms, which were already starting to heal, I picked up the Ghoster’s knife and carefully jumped back to ground level. I knew the Ghoster’s body would vanish soon, so I didn’t bother to hide it. I crawled through the trash bags, and scanned the streets. It was much busier, which wasn’t good. Even if my wounds healed, my clothes still had blood on them. I had to stay hidden.
After almost two hours of jumping between cars, fire hydrants, trashcans, and the forest, I eventually arrived home. I grabbed the knob, and the door opened almost instantly.
“Where the hell have…oh!” Callon cut himself short. “Daniel, what happened?!”
“Ghoster,” I said simply, walking inside.
“Go shower,” Callon said. “Then tell us everything.”
I nodded, as Callon informed Colt that I was back. The hot water was beautiful after wandering in the rain for so long, and soon I was in the sitting room in fresh clothes. Callon and Colt were waiting, looking anxious.
“Daniel, don’t do that again!” Colt said, punching my arm. “We were worried about you.”
“I didn’t realize you’d become so attached to Cheyenne,” Callon said. “Sorry.”
“No, I should be sorry,” I said. “I threw a tantrum like a child. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” I sat up straighter. “But in a way I’m glad I did. I ran into a Ghoster.”
I showed him the knife, then quickly rattled through what had happened, from saving Cheyenne from the truck to pushing the Ghoster off the roof. When I was done, both Colt and Callon looked uncomfortable.
“This is worse than I thought,” Callon muttered. “We have to start hiding our tracks.” He nodded at me. “Daniel, show Colt where the Tresez were hiding. We can’t have them report the Ghoster’s death back to Marcus. I’ll go and follow Cheyenne until she arrives back home.”
“I don’t understand it.” Colt shook his head. “She always drives to her appointments and parks in front of the shops. I should’ve checked on her this morning.”
“Maybe she was having her Jeep serviced.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. What matters now is getting rid of the Tresez before they find her.”
“Right.” Colt stood up. “Let’s go.”
He headed out the door. I hung back for a second. Callon suddenly didn’t look so good.
“Callon?”
Callon blinked, broken from his thoughts.
“Sorry,” he said. “Thank you, Daniel. It was lucky you were there.” He sighed. “I’ve never thought you weak. Don’t ever say anything like that again.”
I smiled.
“I know, Callon.” I plucked my fedora from the hall. “We’re all in this together. Don’t keep trying to go it alone, alright?”
Callon laughed.
“Of course.” He patted my shoulder. “I know you sympathize with Cheyenne, because you had to go through a similar thing. You just have to hold on a little longer. I promise she’s all yours when we fly her over to Ireland. Be patient.”
I nodded.
Come on, Daniel! Colt’s voice broke my thoughts. Hurry up. I want to get home in time for the game.
Coming, Colt! With a wave to Callon, I hurried out the door, my heart feeling much lighter.
Maybe I could get used to be Cheyenne’s invisible protector, after all.
Chapter 4
“There is only the will of the clans. My feelings aren’t important.” ~Callon
I paced the front hall, sliding my hands through my hair. Things had really slowed down in terms of progress, and I was running out of patience. Between myself, Colt and Daniel, we were completely stretched keeping Cheyenne under guard. Colt was spending every spare moment with her, and Daniel and I were constantly doing sweeps to get rid of ‘strays’. I’d even had to ask for help from Colt’s cousin, Koda, though he’d not been able to stay for long due to problems of his own back home. I was also sure Marcus was suspicious as to why his spies couldn’t infiltrate this area, and sooner or later he would come to check things out himself. If he found out about Cheyenne’s existence, he’d either try to manipulate her for his own ends or kill her.
Neither of which were an option.
We’d already agreed the safest course would be to relocate the Wilsons to Ireland. At least in the O’Shea manor I had some element of control, unlike out here in the wilderness. However, Gene and Alexis had changed their minds again. First they had promised to let us move Cheyenne on her eighteenth birthday, but now they were adamant to stay put until after her graduation. I’d spent a good two hours with them earlier, trying to convince them the risk was too much, but it seemed years living in hiding had made them stubborn. They also refused to speak up about Cheyenne’s past. Of course, I had a pretty good idea about the truth, but I needed a proper confession to clear my final doubts.
Why did they have to keep being so evasive?
Hey Callon, you home? Daniel’s voice echoed in my head. He must have returned from his patrol. Any luck with the Wilsons?
I sighed and rubbed my forehead.
No, not really. Come inside and I’ll fill you in.
Sure thing, Daniel answered. I’m gonna wait for Colt first, he said he was on his way.
Alright.
I headed back to the sitting room. It was cold out, so it was probably a good idea to get a fire going. Particularly as I was
expecting company later. As I arranged the logs and set them alight, I caught sight of my Consilador ring. The clover pattern stuck out in my mind, and I closed my eyes.
This was what had me convinced Cheyenne was someone important. That rainy night, when Daniel and I had snuck into her room, I’d studied her ring, and it had the very same pattern on it. As I’d guessed, it was a clan ring, and it specifically belonged to the Servak. This further strengthened my belief of her connection to Sahara, as she’d been Servak as well. Still, it wasn’t enough to prove her parentage. It was possible Cheyenne could have been a cousin, as Sahara had no siblings, but Cheyenne exhibited far too many similar traits. They had to be closer, like mother and daughter…
The fire crackled, jarring my thoughts. I reached for the metal poker and started stoking the flames. I hadn’t shared these views with my brothers, if only because it would make it too real. Even though I had all this evidence, and everything pointed to Cheyenne being Qaysean and Sahara’s secret daughter, a small part of me wanted to deny it. Because if she truly was the last remaining Kvech, I’d have to fulfill my obligation as Consilador leader.
I’d have to marry her.
I stared at the flickering flames. It was hardly fair to Cheyenne, but the real tragedy lay with me. I’d already proposed to someone, and the thought of having to call off our engagement had burned deep. In the end, after much deliberation, I’d talked to her, saying that I couldn’t go through with my promise. She’d said she’d understood, or at least that’s what she claimed, but I knew inside I’d torn her to pieces. I had no right to do that, not after everything we’d been through, yet I’d been left with no choice. I had to put the clans first, and after centuries of war with the Sarac, this could be our final chance to bring about peace. It would be a better future for our children, too.
Fated, A Timeless Series Novella (A Timeless Series Companion Novel) Page 8
